There is just something that happens when good words come your way.
Good words can make you forget for a moment all the difficult things you’re facing, or all the various Jordan-type moments you’ve had to forge across.
Good words are a heart’s reprieve from the exhausting things and the unknown things and the oh-woe-is-me things.
Not sure why, but I felt like God kept highlighting moments like that for me this past week.
I’ve been out in the middle of the unknown for the last little while.
A season of change happening right underfoot, so it seems.
I have a feeling I’m not the only one.
There are these, um, transitions, happening whether I approve of them or not, whether I think I’m ready for them or not, whether I asked for them or not.
Big and small, I don’t know if they take my breath away because they caught me off-guard, or if they are just things that God has always been orchestrating and I’ve just been out in left-field, in my own little world, and just now making sense of the signs that have been pointing this way, go here, do this, trust now.
All the dog lovers in the house. I know you’ll understand this scenario.
We have a shadow living with us. Has been with us now for almost 13 years and is even more of a shadow than before.
No. Maybe shadow isn’t even the right word.
We have this four-legged… umm… growth.
Our border collie/black lab cross, Rally. It’s not enough for her to be in the same vicinity as you. It’s not enough to be in the same house. On the same floor. In the same yard. The same room.
Nope, it’s not enough.
Her life’s purpose is to be so close that no matter what you’re doing, she’s touching you.
She waits. Patiently. To the untrained eye, it looks like she really couldn’t care what you’re about. But she’s simply watching out of one eye for the right moment. For the moment you settle and still in one spot. Then suddenly you have this furry growth.
Sometimes it’s rather funny, sometimes reassuring, or sweet, sometimes very awkward. You look down because she sighs, and snorts, and is finding a way to place her 75 lb body at the right angle so that even just one small part of her is touching yours.
Wrapped around your foot under the work desk. Laying on her side, her hip against your heel by the T.V. Her head wedged up against your ankle while her feet are tangled up in my husband’s while we read.
She becomes this extension of you. Quite on purpose.
God’s perfect timing never ceases to amaze me.
A couple of month’s ago I was in a season of rest. But what should have been restorative came with a side of so many of my mood disorder’s symptoms from my chronic D that the season of rest felt more like being in time out at the principal’s office.
There I was being obedient to the Spirit’s nudging to rest and just ‘be’ for however long He said to. And then the enemy decided to try infusing that same season with insomnia, foggy-brain, phantom pain, and physically feeling like everything happened in slow motion to the point of real frustration and despair.